


In Persuit of the Assassin

by CumberRachel



Series: Recovery is like falling, only backwards [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rain, Snarky Jarvis, Steve Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CumberRachel/pseuds/CumberRachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The search for Bucky is finally over, well it would be, if Bucky co-operated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Persuit of the Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long to update, I kept procrastination.... But it's done! I shifted the order of the series slightly, so the most recent one I uploaded is now part 5 instead of part 6. That's because they weren't going to be seperate fics but then I changed my mind. This one and part six directly link if you want to read it again...
> 
> (Any and all mistakes are my own, mainly cultural as I'm British.)

"Cap." Steve groaned, this was the first time he'd managed to get back to sleep after a nightmare, and then not had another one. "Hey cap. Steve!" Tony poked his shoulder, then his cheek. "Captain Steve Rogers!" Tony shouted, climbing onto the bed and jumping so he jostled Steve. "I know your awake." He announced and Steve could tell he had his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised in that smug smart ass way without even having to look.

Steve rolled onto his back but didn't open his eyes, still wanting to get back to sleep. While he was still tired, Steve felt well rested, similar to when he'd been pulled out of the Potomac; lighter and more alive. "What?" He groaned, rubbing his face.

Tony shifted, sitting cross legged on the bed by Steve's feet. Steve now became more awake, this hasn't happened before and it was obviously important. He heard Tony take a breath to speak, and then let it out again, doing the same and getting caught on the first word, sounded like an 'I'.

"We found Bucky." He blurted, giving Steve a burst of blinding panic. Shooting upright, staring dead in Tony's worried eyes, heart thudding against his chest, lungs constricting, unable to get the right amount of oxygen into his body. He clutched at his shirt with one hand, his ruffled hair with the other in an attempt to stop the shudders taking over his body. Seeing the drastic change in him, Tony crawled up the bed, straddling his lap and taking both Steve's hands in his. Smooth, strong curves cradled in calloused palms.

"Okay, not the best way to break the news." Tony muttered to himself, pressing Steve's palm against his chest and trapping it with his own, fingertips covering the arc reactor. "Steve, you need to breath. Follow me, come on. Deep breath in, through your nose... there we go... Slooooowly out through your mouth... And again, we're getting there." Steve tried his hardest to follow Tony's breathing, but he was struggling to take a whole breath in without it rushing out again. He looked up at Tony with fear filled eyes, it wasn't as of this was the first time he'd had a panic attack, he'd had asthma for Christ sake. Bucky used to do something similar when they were kids; getting Steve to mimic his breathing until he calmed enough to control it on his own.

The memory generated a wave of sadness that in turn created deep pools in his eyes that spilled over the lip of his eyelid and onto the sharp plains of his cheek, only to cling for life on his chin but being unable to hold the weight when two more droplets gathered there. Deep sobs took over the hyperventilation, his shoulders shaking from the sheer force of it, probably scaring Tony even more. His hand fisted in Tony's shirt, holding on as if it was the one thing keeping him together. The man before him shuffled closer and wrapped two strong arms around him, resting his chin on the blondes cranium.

"Hey, hey... I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, I swear I didn't. I wasn't joking either, we have found him. Kinda I mean we have rough location and we managed to get security cameras to follow him, and so far he hasn't hidden or noticed and we can go and get him. Bring him back to the tower just like you wanted. Only you don't seem very happy, and I can't help but think I've miss read the last month and a half we've been spending looking for him. Steve please, give me a little help here." Tony rambled. It was enough to to calm Steve from violent, soul shaking sobs to small sniffles.

"Sorry, I don't know why that happened. I am happy, thank you Tony." Steve sighed a shaky breath. He pushed gently at Tony's chest, only for Tony to resist. "Tony, it's okay. I'm good now." He reiterated, rubbing his pink eyes in the little room he had. Reluctantly, Tony pulled away, but stays at an arms length, just in case. "I got your top wet." Steve sniffled, poking the tear stained patch on Tony's greasy tank top, was he really in the workshop that early?

"Steve, was it something I said? I didn't mean to blurt it out like that, it was gonna have way more tact than that..." Tony proclaimed, reaching a hand forward to flatten Steve's hair, his fingers carting through the thick mass of gold. Instinctually, Steve leaned into the touch, craving it now more than ever.

"I used to have asthma attacks when I was younger." Steve started, his voice rough and husky from crying. "Buck- he... Um- Bucky used to hold me in a similar way to help me regulate my breathing. I learned how to do it on my own and he knew that I could but he was always there, my hand against his chest, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Always telling me how great I was doing, and that I'd be okay and not to be scared. What you did reminded me of it and I guess I've bottled things up again. I feel better now." He admitted, being able to talk more freely once he'd cleared the first hurdle. That was how it had become with Tony though: easy. Like talking to one of the commando's, nearly like talking to Bucky.

"A good cry can do that, it releases endorphins or something, I don't know. Ask Bruce." Tony muttered, his hand pulling away, much to Steve's dismay. Instead, Tony took his hand instead, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. "If you want to, we can go and find him today. You don't even have to come with us if you don't want to." Tony suggested, looking down at their joined hands, focussing on the long fingers.

"No... I should be there. Hopefully he won't run off this time..." Steve mumbled , wanting nothing more than to be able to hug Bucky, to talk to Bucky, to have him where he belongs. "Tony... I know I usually pair up with Nat but would it be okay if we went together today?" He asked tentatively, he hadn't broken down like that in a long time, especially not in front of someone. He didn't want to risk it happening again in front of someone else.

Tony smiled softly, tightening his hold on Steve's hand in an almost protective manor. "Sure thing Steve, you want ten minutes to get ready before meeting in the garage?" He suggested hopefully. Steve nodded but then frowned, he didn't have any clothes on this floor, he didn't usually sleep on this floor. He decided he wanted to more often.

"Can I go to my floor and get clothes?" He asked, looking up with pleading eyes.

Tony sighed, "okay, but I have to come with you" he reasoned, earning a bright grin from Steve. He had been itching to get back to his own space, stock up on pencils and collect all his old sketches so he could organise them. And now give Tony the few he'd drawn of the iron man suit. It was a hard model, many intricate details, difficult shading and reflection; it provided a challenge for Steve, one he enjoyed taking on.

* * *

 

"Okay, so at a guess sergeant Barns is on his way to the Smithsonian. He keeps checking his watch and has some leaflets so maybe he's going to see the one time only special Captain America show. Which I had no idea about, hey Steve! Why didn't you tell us?" Tony rambled, turning and starting towards Steve. Steve just rolled his eyes, throwing the tablet down on the sofa and walking towards the screen.

"Maybe it's because I didn't know?" He retaliates, this was genuinely the first he'd heard about it. He stood before Tony, hands on his hips. "You may or may not remember but I haven't left the tower in a week or so." He reminded him with a smile, he didn't feel an urge to leave so he wasn't fussed about being forced to stay.

"Told you he wouldn't know Tony, how many times do I have to be right before you start listening to me?" Bruce boasted, tapping one of the three screens so it still followed Bucky. "Hey, JARVIS? Are you able to find a different angle?" He inquired, his voice slightly tense.

Steve snapped his attention to Bruce, brushing past Tony and rushing over. "What? What is it?" He urged, eyes scanning each screen. Bucky had crouched down on his knees and was clutching his metal arm to his chest, head bowed to rest on one knee. Steve wandered if it was a way of silencing the screams that threatened to escape and reveal his identity.

"Tony. We need to leave. Now." Steve said urgently, resisting the urge to grab his shield and run straight to Bucky. Even it it meant scaling buildings and running through walls. Tony didn't even argue, he just grabbed a magnetic tracker and a mini repulser just incase Bucky became the assassin once more.

* * *

 

"Okay JARVIS, predicted destination?" Tony asked, the AI taking a few seconds before responding: "Go straight on past the Smithsonian and take the third left." Tony chuckled, pulling Steve in the right direction, his hand hot against his wrist.

"I should make your voice available for satnavs." He quipped, making Steve raise an eyebrow in confusion. He was hearing one side of a conversation and wished he was a little less interested in Tony and more interested in finding Bucky. To Tony's dismay, JARVIS stayed silent. It was an odd silence, one where JARVIS knew whatever he said would be used against him as he became the new voice of 'turn left' and 'recalculating' so instead he stayed quiet, a subtle 'fuck you' to his creator.

Suddenly, Steve heard a hiss and then a groan. So he slowly back paced until it got louder, _one alley too early, JARVIS..._ thought Steve, tilting his head in the hopes of hearing better. Seeing he had stopped, Tony turns and gives Steve an impatient look, it quickly switching to confusion when he sees Steve's face.

"What?" He mouths, holding his palms face up in an almost shrug. "I heard something." Steve mouths back, really grateful that this time of day and this area is really quiet. Steve thought that it would be nice in a summer evening in the 40's; children playing out on the streets, neighbours talking on the doorstep as they watched friendships being made, young couples strolling along on their way to the cinema or the dance club. Unfortunately for Steve's imagination, summer had not yet quite arrived and now there was a light drizzle coating everything in a layer of water, attaching to clothes and hair, pulling heat out of his body. Steve allowed himself only a few seconds of panic about the ice before the groan got louder, a small whimper escaping at the end.

Steve looked at Tony, who was now beside him, his brows were furrowed as he tried to look into the shadows of the ally, the stacks of crates and grey clouded sky didn't make things any easier.

Sounds of movement stilled Steve's cautious steps, the scraping of shoes against concrete as though they were too tired to lift far from the ground. The sound resonated between the narrow walls of the alley; echoing and breaking the silence. A figure staggered out of the shadows, swift and steady. Accidentally ending up in a shaft of sunlight that penetrated the cloud layer. Each ray of light reflecting every colour on each drop that continued to fall, miniature rainbows forming and then disappearing just as quickly.

That wasn't what was holding the soldiers attention, though. Eyes as grey as the cloud above locked onto his when the figures head snapped round. Wide and blown as a deer's caught in the headlights - frozen and frightened. So very terrified. A fear that was so palpable it made Steve falter, torn between running after his best friend - or turning and bolting, crushing weeks or hard work and effort, creating many more now that the assassin knew he'd been followed.

Steve began to creep forward, holding his hand back to signal 'wait' when he heard Tony follow his movement. There were still a good 25 metres between them but Steve daren't run incase Bucky fled. Instantly Steve could see the difference the fall of hydra, who had needed to keep him healthy and strong, had done to his best friend. The last time they'd clapped eyes on each other, Bucky had been fuller, his shoulders strong, jaw tense but cheeks fuller than the sunken shadows that now occupied his face. Now the assassin was shrouded in light, Steve could see bones. Even through the hoody that, thanks to the rain, clung to his body. At this angle Steve could see his back and one side, Bucky holding his left arm to his chest made it easier for Steve to see the ribs protruding, his shoulder blades sharp in contrast to the smoothness of his back, the only place Steve couldn't distinguish the joints.

"Buck...." Steve whispered, his throat tightening as his breathing became shallow, his fight or flight response battling it out in his blood.

It had been a bad move. Talking. The assassin had been analysing the soldier in the same way.

Now he was running.

Away from Steve.

So naturally Steve followed. It took a couple of seconds for his muscles to get into gear and actually move, flight it was.

Even with his considerable malnutrition and clear lack of energy, Bucky managed to be faster than Steve. All the alleys connected in a vast network of streets. Bucky turned down many, some connecting to others, but most being dead ends with walls or fences that Bucky jumped over. Even like this the assassin was still more agile. Steve struggled to maintain speed when he kept crashing into walls, ending up so far behind he relied on the sound of Bucky's feet pounding into puddles for direction.

Until it stopped, and Steve was lost. The sun was gone and the rain was getting heavier. He tried his hardest to listen for any sign of life, heavy breathing, pained moans, anything.

Steve heard shifting, the sound of clothes, or something similar anyway. He turned and ran in the direction, checking each ally only to be bombarded by more noise: foxes in bins, music from clubs, the harsh moans of someone being pounded against a wall, laughter, his own feet against the ground, someone calling his name...

The next alley was empty. Empty and quiet, blissfully so. Steve dropped to his knees as tears filled his eyes, trickling down and mingling with the rain pouring down his face. He'd been given one opportunity and he'd blown it, he would never get Bucky back now, never be able to save him from the horrors he's facing. Bucky would surely be dead in a month if he didn't get food or water, the serum only went so far, and Steve was pretty sure Bucky didn't have the same as his own.

"Steve?" There was his name again, on Tony's lips. Steve had been so blind-sighted by Bucky that he had forgotten the man behind their recent success, the one who held him through the sobs that shook through him earlier that morning.

A hand was placed gingerly on his shoulder, slowly curling around the back of his neck when it wasn't shrugged off.

Tony moved in front of Steve and dropped to his knees also. His face was hard and almost angry, at what Steve didn't know but he was grateful he was there. He didn't know how Tony had found him, he wouldn't have been able to keep up. That didn't matter, though. Tony was there and holding him close, allowing Steve to cry into his neck like a mother might her child.

"Let's go home, Steve." Tony said softly, his voice caressing Steve's shoulders and tearing the tension to shreds. Home, somewhere Steve belonged.

 

 

 


End file.
